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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26469157">between a rock and a hard place</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/pseuds/envysparkler'>envysparkler</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Batfamily (DCU), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Protective Jason Todd, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Trapped, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:53:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26469157</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/pseuds/envysparkler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim curled up in a ball and shook with several, near-hyperventilating breaths.  Jason clenched his hands into fists.</p><p>“Hood?” came Nightwing’s tentative check-in, “How’s everything going?”</p><p><em>I’m trapped under a building</em>, he didn’t say.  <em>Tim thinks I’m going to murder him</em>, he didn’t say.  <em>Get me out of here before I claw my own skin off</em>, he didn’t say.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake &amp; Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>166</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jason and Tim Enemy-to-Caretaker</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>between a rock and a hard place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Reminder that the author's knowledge of the batfam has been obtained primarily through fanfiction.</p><p>This fic is an experiment in my ongoing thesis of 'how many ways can I torture Jason Todd without laying a finger on him'.</p><p>Also warning for medical inaccuracies since I am pretty sure concussions do not work like that.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“Bomb,” came Oracle’s clipped warning, and a part of him shuddered as he immediately turned to the nearest exit.  He didn’t bother to check what everyone else was doing—they all could take care of themselves, and he’d joined on their mission to capture Penguin as a favor.</p><p> </p><p>And then the floor shuddered underneath him and Jason froze.</p><p> </p><p>It was heat and sand and coughing and trembling in his limbs, in his <em>bones—</em>something hit him in the side, hard, and Jason was tumbling through the air, falling—</p><p> </p><p>A hard impact—was he imagining the crowbar swinging?</p><p> </p><p>Darkness and dust and distant screams.</p><p> </p><p>That laughter.  That <em>awful</em> laughter, and how he hated that he was going to die with it ringing in his ears, stronger and stronger until he couldn’t even hear his own heartbeat and—</p><p> </p><p>“—Hood!  Hood, come in!  Hood?”</p><p> </p><p>Fire and heat searing through his limbs, burning him alive and how Jason <em>hated</em> that he remembered dying, remembered how it felt in excruciating detail—</p><p> </p><p>“—goddammit, someone come in!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hood, did you get out?”</p><p> </p><p>“Red, <em>report</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Robin?  Is Robin okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“This is N, I got out, so did B.”</p><p> </p><p>“Red?  Come in, Red Robin.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hood?  <em>Hood</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“Here,” Jason rasped, gripping the helmet and tried to swallow past the choking, acrid taste of blood and smoke.  “I’m here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you get out?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason squinted at the darkness around him, reached up and cursed when his hand hit rubble a foot from his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope,” he said, feeling panic begin to claw at his limbs.  “I’m going to try to find a way out.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hood, be careful, the structure’s not stable—” Jason didn’t care.  He had to get out of here before he started seeing his coffin.  “Are you injured?  Hood?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t think so,” he said, more ragged than he liked.  Shifting forward caused twinges of pain up and down his limbs, but nothing felt more serious than a bruise.  He scrambled for his phone and turned on the flashlight—nothing but broken beams and twisted metal.</p><p> </p><p>He poked at the mess, searching for a weak point to tunnel out, but it swayed alarmingly when he tried and he backed off.</p><p> </p><p>“Hood, stay where you are.  We’re working getting you out.”  Oracle sounded a bit distracted.</p><p> </p><p>Jason bit back the automatic retort about following orders and turned to examine the rest of the small air pocket he found himself in.  Rubble, rubble, rubble—and that was a body.</p><p> </p><p>Jason inhaled sharply.</p><p> </p><p>“O, I found Red Robin.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a marked hush across the comms.</p><p> </p><p>Jason stripped a glove to check the kid’s pulse, rattling off information as fast as he absorbed it, trying to do <em>something</em> to keep the memory taste of dirt out of his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“Heart rate’s a little fast, his legs are trapped under a fallen beam, but I don’t think they’re crushed, left arm’s definitely broken, got a nasty gash across his head.  Doesn’t look to be in immediate danger.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason tried to shift Tim onto his back so he could breathe better, but his legs refused to budge.  “Red?  Red, can you hear me?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason crawled over to the fallen beam to see if it would move—it was heavy, but Jason thought he could lift it.  Unfortunately, he couldn’t lift it <em>and</em> pull the kid out, so they were still stuck.</p><p> </p><p>He lightly tapped the kid’s face, but got no response.  Tim was out like a light.</p><p> </p><p>Jason sighed and shifted back onto his heels.  “ETA on a rescue?” he asked.  The darkness already felt like it was pressing in.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re still analyzing the structure,” Batman said at the same time Oracle snapped, “Are you in a rush?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason let out a shaky breath.  “Yes,” he hissed, “Yes, I <em>am</em> in a rush because for some inconceivable reason, <em>I don’t like being buried alive</em>!”</p><p> </p><p>A long silence.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re going to get you out as fast as we can, Hood.”  Batman again, but his voice had gone two shades gentler.</p><p> </p><p>“Hear that, Red?” Jason grumbled, leaning back over the kid.  He didn’t like the way that head wound looked, and if Tim was awake then maybe Jason would find it easier to pretend he wasn’t losing his goddamn mind.  “We got the express service.  Red.  Red Robin.  <em>Reeeed</em>.  Wakey-wakey.”</p><p> </p><p>He paused and considered Tim for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“The demon stole your laptop,” he tried.  No response.  Well, there was a huff across the comms, but no response from the kid.</p><p> </p><p>“Big Bird took the last slice of pineapple pizza,” he said.  Still nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Jason tried to grab all of the panic and dread and stuff it deep inside, but it kept clawing its way back up his throat and he could hear faint laughter, hear the sound of metal scraping against the ground, feel dirt shifting on top of him—</p><p> </p><p>“Red!” Jason shouted, shaking Tim’s shoulders.  Tim gasped awake with a start, immediately trying to move and scrabbling at the floor when he couldn’t budge.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoa, calm down, Red,” Jason said, intending to grab the kid if he didn’t stop thrashing, but Tim went limp as soon as he heard Jason’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>Jason ignored the faint sense of alarm and got back to business.  “Can you feel your legs?”</p><p> </p><p>Silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Red, can you feel your legs?” Jason repeated.  Tim hadn’t fallen unconscious again, Jason could hear the way his breath hitched.</p><p> </p><p>“Red.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” came the soft, tremulous answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Great,” Jason said, resolutely ignoring the tone.  “I’m going to lift this beam and you’re going to pull your legs out, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t wait for an agreement and channeled the frantic energy inside him as he gripped the beam, got a knee wedged slightly under it to use as a fulcrum, and lifted.</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the rubble groaned ominously, but nothing came crashing down on Jason’s face, so he was considering it a win.  He got his knee further under the beam to let Tim wriggle free, and made a wordless snarl when he didn’t hear any sounds of movement.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you getting your legs out, or do I have to hold this beam up forever?” Jason hissed through gritted teeth.</p><p> </p><p>No answer.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Red</em>,” Jason snarled in the way that usually preceded murder.</p><p> </p><p>Tim squeaked and leather dragged against concrete.  “Sorry,” he mumbled as he crawled his way out—one leg was definitely broken, the other looked to be in one piece.  Jason eased the beam back down as soon as Tim was clear.</p><p> </p><p>“Great.  Still in one piece, Red?”  Tim was huddled against the far wall, tracking Jason like a mouse tracked an eagle.  Jason frowned.  “I asked you a question,” he said flatly.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” Tim shivered, pressing as far away from him as the rubble allowed, “I’m sorry.  Don’t—please don’t hurt me.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason froze.  <em>What</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He and Red Robin weren’t on the <em>best</em> of terms—come to think of it, Jason had never apologized for those two murder attempts—but he thought they’d reached a wary level of acceptance over the years, especially in regards to trusting the other with their back in the field.</p><p> </p><p>“I—I didn’t mean to,” Tim shuddered, curling up as best he could, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean it, I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Didn’t mean <em>what</em>?</p><p> </p><p>Jason eyed the head wound, definitely more concerned.  He leaned forward—and Tim nearly slammed his head against the rubble to get away from Jason.</p><p> </p><p>“Calm the fuck down, Replacement,” Jason snarled, annoyed and frustrated, yanking Tim away from the broken beams before the idiot could do more damage to himself.  “I’m not going to attack you.  Fucking hell, what do you think I am?”</p><p> </p><p>Tim curled up in a ball and shook with several, near-hyperventilating breaths.  Jason clenched his hands into fists.</p><p> </p><p>“Hood?” came Nightwing’s tentative check-in, “How’s everything going?”</p><p> </p><p><em>I’m trapped under a building</em>, he didn’t say.  <em>Tim thinks I’m going to murder him</em>, he didn’t say. <em>Get me out of here before I claw my own skin off</em>, he didn’t say.</p><p> </p><p>“It’d be going a lot better if you <em>got us out</em>,” Jason hissed, but it didn’t come out nearly as venomous as he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Tim trembled with hitched sobs.  Jason resisted the urge to shoot something.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tim’s sobs had faded into quiet, even breathing and Jason sighed as he realized he needed to keep Tim awake.  Neither of them had any serious injuries, but Jason was worried about that head wound.</p><p> </p><p>Jason took off the helmet first, detaching the comms and sticking it back in his ear.  He figured this would go a lot better if he didn’t look like the Red Hood.</p><p> </p><p>“Red?” Jason tried, carefully easing Tim onto his back, “You there, baby bird?  Come on, check in, Red.”</p><p> </p><p>Some quiet moans, but Tim didn’t open his eyes.  Jason took a second to think before he threw B’s rules about names out the window.  “Tim?  Timbird, can you hear me?”</p><p> </p><p>Tim’s moan sounded a lot more conscious this time.  Jason hovered at the edge of his vision, half-worried Tim was going to see him and try to bolt again.  But Tim blinked his eyes open hazily and stared at Jason like he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at.</p><p> </p><p>“You there, Tim?” Jason asked quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Robin?” Tim scrunched his face up, and relaxed it with a pained groan as it pulled as his wound.  Jason aborted his reach before he actually touched Tim.</p><p> </p><p>“Robin is…” Jason trailed off when he realized he didn’t actually know where the demon brat was.</p><p> </p><p>“Robin’s fine.  Got clipped by some falling beams, but he’s out,” Nightwing reported immediately.</p><p> </p><p>“Robin’s fine,” Jason said to Tim, who was blinking at him in clear confusion.  “He got out.  He’s good.”</p><p> </p><p>“Robin,” Tim repeated hazily, “Here?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason was now <em>very concerned</em> about that head wound.</p><p> </p><p>“No, Robin’s not here,” Jason said levelly, “He got out.  He’s fine.  We’re the only ones stuck here.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re stuck?” Tim cast a glance around their little pocket.  “Stuck here.  With Robin.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason blinked at him.  “No,” he said, keeping his tone slow and easy to follow, “Robin is not here.  Robin got out.”</p><p> </p><p>There was a huff across the comms before Damian’s voice came on, clear and irritated, “Inform that imbecile that I was able to leave the premises <em>as directed</em> and he is an idiot if he believes that I am still trapped inside.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason rolled his eyes as Dick hissed at Damian across the comms.</p><p> </p><p>Tim’s gaze settled on Jason.  “Robin?” he breathed out again.</p><p> </p><p>Jason fought his irritation—it wasn’t Tim’s fault he had a probable concussion, though Jason did not appreciate being mistaken for an eleven-year-old—</p><p> </p><p>Oh.  <em>Fuck</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” Jason hummed in favor of saying anything else.  His stomach was twisting over into knots.</p><p> </p><p>“Where are we?” Tim asked, hushed.</p><p> </p><p>“Inside a warehouse.  It blew up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Tim bit his lip, “I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you sorry for, baby bird?” Jason asked softly.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s my fault.”  Jason wasn’t sure what he meant by that one.  None of them knew about the bomb until Oracle had warned them.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not your fault,” Jason said levelly, “Pretty sure Penguin will be pissed at you taking the blame.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim cracked a smile at that.  The silence extended for a moment, before—“Robin?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason really hoped that Tim didn’t remember this.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, kid?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for being here,” Tim said quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“No problem, Red,” Jason said, and pretended it didn’t make something in his heart crack.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The thing was, Jason remembered being Robin, remembered being fifteen years old and drunk on safety and freedom and power.  The Pit had magnified all the negatives, the arguments and shouting and disappointment, the rightful rage and seething hate—but there had been positives too.</p><p> </p><p>And Jason remembered a day, maybe a month before Ethiopia, a <em>bad</em> day, when Batman’s growls sounded like disgust and Jason could do nothing right—and Jason remembered finding a shivering kid hanging off the edge of the railing with wide-eyed fear.</p><p> </p><p>Jason had gotten him down and wrapped him in the cape and looked with the boy over the edge to see a camera shattered to pieces on the ground far below.  He remembered panicking at the sight of tears and blurting out the first distraction he could think of and shuffling into a restaurant at one in the morning to ask for ice cream.</p><p> </p><p>He remembered sitting on the edge of that building and eating a chocolate cone while they watched the Gotham skyline.</p><p> </p><p>And it had been a bad day, but it had helped so much, had affirmed that he was doing the right thing, had got him through so many arguments right up until it hadn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Jason was abruptly startled out of reminiscing when he realized that Tim hadn’t checked in for a minute.</p><p> </p><p>“Red?” Jason crawled over to him.  Tim’s eyes had closed again and Jason lightly patted his face to get him up.  “Tim.  Timothy.  Wake up~”</p><p> </p><p>In retrospect, the singsong tone was a mistake.</p><p> </p><p>Tim’s eyes shot open, pupils dilating almost immediately, and he threw himself away from Jason.</p><p> </p><p>Jason was already cursing himself, lunging after Tim before he bludgeoned himself on some rebar in his panic.  Tim flailed at him, hit Jason’s shoulder with his broken arm, and went sickly pale as he strangled the scream.</p><p> </p><p>Jason used the moment to drag Tim back to the center of the space, his grip tight on Tim’s shoulders.  “I am not attacking you,” Jason said as calmly as he could manage.  He dodged a swipe to his face and caught Tim’s uninjured hand.  “Calm down.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hood, what’s going on?” Dick asked, his worried tone coming through loud and clear.</p><p> </p><p>Tim was thrashing in Jason’s grip, trying to get away, his face frozen in a rictus of fear and Jason cursed.  “I would appreciate it if you focused more on getting us out and less on listening to the comms, N,” Jason hissed, before turning his attention back to Tim.</p><p> </p><p>He dragged Tim fully into his lap, trying to make sure the kid didn’t bash his head against concrete, and restrained his uninjured arm and leg.  “Calm down,” he repeated levelly, staring into Tim’s eyes, “We’re in a warehouse.  Penguin blew it up.  B and N are digging us out.  I am not attacking you.”</p><p> </p><p>He repeated it.  Over and over.  The comms had gone silent.  Again.  And again.  Until Jason’s voice was hoarse and he realized that Tim had gone limp, eyes closed.</p><p> </p><p>And Jason sighed, gave himself one moment to curse with heartfelt emotion, and set about waking Tim up again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Robin?” Tim’s eyes were wide and wondering.  “Is that really you?”</p><p> </p><p>Jason would really like to know what he did to deserve this, but the sad thing was that there were so many it would be easier to point to what he <em>hadn’t</em> done to deserve this.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, baby bird,” Jason said, tired, “It’s really me.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim reached a hand out and Jason flinched automatically, only catching himself when Tim’s face fell.  Jason sighed and caught Tim’s hand.  “I’m really here.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim looked beyond Jason, scanning their surroundings in the light from Jason’s dying phone.  “We’re stuck, aren’t we,” he said quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Batman’s coming to get us out,” Jason said, pointed.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re working on it, Hood,” Dick sighed over the comms, “Maybe another twenty minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason’s phone battery wasn’t going to last ten.</p><p> </p><p>Tim swallowed, and tightened his grip on Jason’s hand.  “Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You really don’t have anything to thank me for,” Jason ground out.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you,” Tim repeated, “For being Robin.”</p><p> </p><p>What the fuck was Jason supposed to say to that.</p><p> </p><p>Tim’s eyes widened and Jason was alarmed to realize that his throat had closed up.  He didn’t even want to know what expression his face was making.  “I wasn’t much good at being Robin,” he said roughly, “So I don’t know what you’re thanking me for.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim’s face fell into a frown.  “You <em>are</em> good!  You’re Robin.  You’ve saved so many people!  How can you say that—”</p><p> </p><p>Jason gently covered Tim’s mouth with his hand, muffling his words because it was unfair to let the kid babble about how great he thought Jason was.</p><p> </p><p>Tim scowled up at him, indignant, and Jason wanted to laugh.  “We can have this discussion after we get out of here,” Jason said instead.</p><p> </p><p>Tim blinked at him.  “You mean…we can meet up later?  Really?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Jason said, with absolutely no intention of following through.  Chances were that Red wouldn’t remember this conversation after his head healed and even if he did, Jason was not sticking around.  “We can go get ice cream.”</p><p> </p><p>It was an offhand comment but Tim’s entire face brightened, like the sun rising past the horizon, a radiant smile that Jason had seen once or twice, but <em>never</em> aimed at him.</p><p> </p><p>Jason squeezed his eyes shut.  “I’d really like that,” Tim almost whispered, shy and hesitant.</p><p> </p><p>Something in his heart <em>bled</em>.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“How much longer?” Jason hissed into his comms, “We’ve been stuck down here for <em>hours</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“It hasn’t even been one hour, Hood, and we’re doing the best we can,” Dick said wearily, “We’ll have you guys out in another fifteen minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jason?” Tim said, a little slurred and Jason swung his attention back to the delirious kid in his lap.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, baby bird?” Jason asked, preparing himself for another elbow to the face. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m stuck under a building,” he said, trying to lift himself off of Jason’s lap.  Jason caught Tim’s shoulders and steadied him.</p><p> </p><p>“Funnily enough, I realized,” Jason said dryly.  Tim had gone still.  Very still.  <em>Too</em> still.</p><p> </p><p>Jason followed his gaze and swallowed.  He should’ve hidden that helmet.</p><p> </p><p>“Hood’s here,” Tim said, his tone wavering.</p><p> </p><p><em>Right above you</em>, Jason did not chime in.</p><p> </p><p>Tim pushed back, leaning further into Jason until Jason’s arms were bracketing the kid.  Like he was searching for safety.  “Hood’s angry,” Tim said in a barely audible tone.</p><p> </p><p>“He is,” Jason agreed, throat dry.  He was always angry.</p><p> </p><p>“He thinks I replaced him,” Tim’s voice was barely over a whisper.  He sounded hurt.  He sounded resigned.  He sounded <em>tired</em>.  “He hates me.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’ll get over it.”  Eventually.</p><p> </p><p>Tim barked out a harsh laugh at that.  “No, he <em>really</em> hates me.”  Jason stayed silent, not sure how to reassure the kid without prompting another panic attack.  “He tried to kill me,” Tim murmured, like it was a confession.</p><p> </p><p>“What an asshole,” Jason said.</p><p> </p><p>Tim was startled into a snicker.  Jason felt his lips twitch and Tim relaxed, his eyes fluttering closed.</p><p> </p><p>Jason kicked out at the helmet, sending it skittering into a pile of rubble, still visible but no longer obvious, before he moved to wake Tim up again.</p><p> </p><p>“Red.  Red, get up.  You can’t fall asleep.  <em>Tim—</em>”</p><p> </p><p>The phone’s light blinked off, leaving them in sudden, absolute darkness.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Hood?”</p><p> </p><p>Laughter.  Awful, shrieking, <em>grating</em> laughter, all around him, bludgeoning his ears until he could hear nothing else.</p><p> </p><p>“Hood?  <em>Hood</em>!”</p><p> </p><p>The dull scrape as the crowbar dragged against the floor and his muscles tensed, locked up, because he knew what followed and it hurt, <em>it hurt so much</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Jason!  Jason, can you hear me?”</p><p> </p><p>Gasps.  Loud, frantic, ripping themselves out of his throat.  He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see, dust and dirt and laughter and <em>that godawful</em> <em>coffin</em> and the laughter that never stopped.</p><p> </p><p>“Jason!  Jason, you’re not alone, I’m here, we’re in Gotham, Batman’s coming, <em>I promise</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t.  He wasn’t, he didn’t, no one was coming, he was burning, <em>he was burning</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Jason, I’m right here.”  Pressure on his hand.  On his legs.  Someone shifting near him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere.  You’re okay.”  He gripped it fast—a low, pained hiss—the warmth, the weight of fingers against his own.  He curled over, shuddering, and felt someone breathing against his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Jason?”</p><p> </p><p>He gripped the fingers tight and dragged in a painful inhale.  And out.  And in.  And out.  And in.  And out.  Until the laughter grew fainter and fainter and fainter.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Jason?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Tim?” Jason rasped.  He was clutching Tim’s shoulders hard enough to leave bruises, but he couldn’t force himself to relax.</p><p> </p><p>Tim shifted, adjusting his position in Jason’s lap.  He made a soft whine, presumably jarring some injured limb.  Jason couldn’t tell.  He couldn’t see.</p><p> </p><p>The helmet had night-vision.  He knew that.  But the helmet had been kicked into a corner and if Jason let go of Tim, he was going to start screaming.</p><p> </p><p>The darkness hungered for him.  He could tell.  He could feel its fingers around his throat.  And only the warmth under his fingers kept it at bay.</p><p> </p><p>“I—I’m scared.”  He could hear Tim’s swallow, feel the jitters under his hands.</p><p> </p><p>The darkness laughed.  “So am I, baby bird,” Jason confessed quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Tim shifted again, exhaling roughly.  “I’m trapped.”</p><p> </p><p>“B’s coming,” Jason said.  He could hear them shifting rubble.  They were close.  “He’s coming for you.”  Not Jason, though.  He’d left those dreams behind a long time ago.</p><p> </p><p>Tim was silent.  A beat passed, and another, and Jason shifted, he needed to keep Tim awake—but Tim spoke up again.</p><p> </p><p>“Does it hurt?”</p><p> </p><p>“Does what hurt?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dying.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason froze.  For a long moment, the only sound was his heart beating and Tim’s soft breaths.</p><p> </p><p>“I—I just want to know.  Please.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not dying,” Jason said, harsher than he was going for, “You don’t need to know that.”</p><p> </p><p>No one had asked him that question before.  No one had <em>cared</em>.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How did it feel to burn alive, bruised and beaten and broken, with your father’s name on your lips?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How did it feel to crawl out of your own grave, suffocating and drowning and panicked and desperate?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>How did it feel when you got home and realized your seat was taken, your place was gone, and you were forgotten?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“I’m trapped,” Tim said wearily, “I’m hallucinating a dead boy.  I’m pretty sure I’m dying.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not dead,” Jason said flatly, picking on the part of that statement that was most concerning.</p><p> </p><p>“You are.  I’m sorry,” Tim awkwardly patted his arm, “More realistic that you usually are, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Jason had to take a moment to parse through that one.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>What</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s the similarities,” Tim mumbled, “Points of…points of connection.  I’m glad you’re here, Jason.  I didn’t want to die alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not dying,” Jason snarled, but there was no bite in his voice.</p><p> </p><p>Tim didn’t even seem to hear him.  “I just made a bigger mess,” Tim said softly, “Was trying to help.  But I’m dying.  Just like you.  B…B isn’t going to be happy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Batman is <em>never</em> happy,” Jason growled.  Was everyone in this family a goddamn martyr?  The kid though he was dying and his only concern was that Batman would be <em>disappointed</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“I hope someone helps him,” Tim said.  His voice was growing fainter.  “Before he kills himself.”</p><p> </p><p>“Before he <em>what</em>?”  Jason did <em>not</em> hear that correctly.</p><p> </p><p>“Tried to stop him,” Tim mumbled, “Wasn’t good enough.  Was just a placeholder.”</p><p> </p><p>This kid had some serious self-worth issues.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not dying,” Jason said, shaking the kid roughly, “And they’re going to get us out of here real soon.  You’re not allowed to fall asleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jason?” Tim said, slightly more alert.  He was fading, though, Jason could tell.  He wasn’t going to stay conscious for long.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, baby bird?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for the ice cream,” he said, soft and hushed.</p><p> </p><p>Jason’s heart clenched.  Of all the fucking things to remember—</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome,” he croaked, hoarse, and scrubbed at his face.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“We’re almost through,” Dick called out, “Just need to shift a little more rubble out of the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hurry up,” Jason growled.  Tim was still awake, but he was losing coherency fast.</p><p> </p><p>“Almost, Hood,” Dick’s placating tone came through the ever-thinning rubble.  Jason could tell where they were going to poke through, could hear the grunting over comms as they fought to clear a path through to Jason and Tim.</p><p> </p><p>And then there was wind, soft but sucking at Jason’s skin, the chill night air coiling into the musty space.  Jason felt the darkness press back and his jitters ease, especially after a last, jerking thud cleared the remaining rubble from the hole.</p><p> </p><p>“Hood?” Dick called out, much closer.</p><p> </p><p>“Take Red first,” Jason said, shifting the kid up and tugging him closer to the hole.  Dick’s arm nearly knocked him in the face and Jason growled before grabbing one flailing hand and curling it around Tim’s shoulder.  “He hit his head and he’s still confused.”</p><p> </p><p>“I got him,” Dick said, his grip shifting around Tim before carefully pulling him out through the tunnel they managed to excavate.  Jason helped ease him out, gently supporting his legs until they were slowly tugged out of reach.</p><p> </p><p>Leaving Jason behind.</p><p> </p><p>In a hole.</p><p> </p><p>In the darkness.</p><p> </p><p>Metal screeching, laughter, the thick weight of dirt in his mouth—</p><p> </p><p>“Hood.”  A strong grip on Jason’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“B,” Jason breathed out shakily.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s get you out of there,” Batman said, and Jason let himself reach out blindly, let himself catch the firm grasp and crawl out of the rubble.</p><p> </p><p>The night air felt like a slap to the face and Jason sucked in deep breaths, leaving behind the taste of dust and darkness as he stumbled shakily to his feet.  The first responders had made it long back but were keeping their distance as Batman led Jason away from the rubble and towards the streets.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you injured?” Batman asked quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“Just sore,” Jason said, shaking his head.  And exhausted.  And stuffed full of things he didn’t want to think about.</p><p> </p><p>There was a sharp wail in front of them and both of them turned on instinct.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, Red, you’re injured, we need to get you back to the Cave,” Dick was saying, trying to be soothing as he maneuvered Tim inside the Batmobile.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Tim was shaking, his breaths high and fast, “No, Robin’s in there, you can’t leave him in there, you have to go back for him, you can’t—”</p><p> </p><p>“I am <em>right here</em>,” Damian snarled, hovering next to Dick, and Jason broke out into a jog to reach them faster.</p><p> </p><p>“No, you can’t leave him there, <em>he died there</em>, you have to get him out, you—”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m here, baby bird,” Jason rasped, shouldering past Damian to reach Tim’s side.  “I made it out.”  He ignored the unsubtle, shocked silence around him.</p><p> </p><p>“Jason,” Tim exhaled, reaching out for him and Jason let him grab his wrist, helping Dick tug the kid inside.  Damian clambered into the front seat and turned to aim a withering glare at them, Batman ignored them all as he got in and began driving.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t leave,” Tim said, his eyes drooping.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going anywhere,” Jason promised.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tim swam to consciousness slowly, dulled sensations bleeding to sharper ones.  Dim light, the smell of antiseptic, the shadowed ceiling above him.  A solid line of heat braced against his right side, slow breaths tickling his ear.  Warmth around his left leg, a soft pressure on his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Dick, contorted in a chair in a way only he found comfortable.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey there, baby bird,” Dick smiled when Tim caught his gaze, “How are you feeling?”</p><p> </p><p>Muddled.  He could feel that he was missing something, something important, but the bed was soft and he was warm and he didn’t want to move.</p><p> </p><p>“Warm,” Tim said finally.  Dick’s eyes danced with amusement.</p><p> </p><p>“You remember what happened?”</p><p> </p><p>Tim frowned.  He remembered going out on patrol.  Tangling with…the Penguin.  All of them were there, and Tim had ended up on the same floor as Hood, grappling with the henchmen as Penguin cackled and—</p><p> </p><p>Oracle’s voice, high and sharp—<em>“Bomb.”</em></p><p> </p><p>Tim had turned to the nearest window, ready to break through the glass and leap for the next building, Hood already in front of him, when the building shook—Hood had frozen in his tracks and Tim changed momentum to tackle him out of the way as the warehouse came down around him.</p><p> </p><p>And then…darkness and choked sobs and strange dreams about ice cream.</p><p> </p><p>“Explosion,” Tim rasped.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Dick sighed, “Took us a while to dig you out.  And you had a nasty head wound.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim could feel the edges of the headache hovering, but it couldn’t pierce through the warmth.  Tim turned his head slightly, trying to figure out where the heat was coming from and—</p><p> </p><p>Eyes closed, breathing softly, the white streak of hair sticking up at a funny angle—Jason almost looked peaceful.</p><p> </p><p>“What is Jason doing in my bed?” Tim asked, rather levelly for being confronted with his almost-murderer’s face two inches from his own.</p><p> </p><p>“You, uh…you wouldn’t let him leave,” Dick said.  His voice sounded strained.</p><p> </p><p>“What?”  That didn’t sound like Tim.  He tried to ease away—but the pressure on his stomach was holding him in place, and there were fingers curled into his, anchoring him where he was.</p><p> </p><p>Tim squinted down—at his fingers first, which for some reason were entangled with Jason’s—and then at the mop of dark hair settled above his left hip.</p><p> </p><p>“What is <em>Damian</em> doing in my bed?” Tim asked, harsher this time.</p><p> </p><p>A long silence.  When Tim glanced over at Dick, the older man’s face was scrunched up like he was trying really hard to keep a blank face.</p><p> </p><p>“Damian…took it badly when you called Jason Robin.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did what now.”</p><p> </p><p>“And he got a teensy bit jealous,” Dick continued, and Tim could see that what he was fighting was a smile.  “So he wanted to, in his own words, ‘endeavor to make sure the imbecile recognizes that <em>I</em> am the true Robin and that there is absolutely no need to reference subpar incarnations'.”</p><p> </p><p>“Back up a moment—I called Jason <em>what</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“You had a head wound,” Dick said sympathetically, “You were a bit confused.”  Tim was more than a <em>bit</em> confused if he’d called Jason Robin to his face—he was surprised the man hadn’t actually murdered him this time.</p><p> </p><p>But none of this explained why he was being used as a pillow by the two members of the family most likely to kill him.</p><p> </p><p>“And that translated to sleeping on top of me <em>how</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>The amusement flickered and died.  “Damian was worried about you.”</p><p> </p><p>“The demon brat,” Tim said flatly, “Was worried.  About <em>me</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jason was,” Dick’s eyes flicked past Tim, “…<em>very concerned</em> when you were trapped under the rubble.  And Damian apparently took that to mean that you were dying.” </p><p> </p><p>Jason’s ‘very concerned’ was not threatening to shoot them, so Tim failed to see the relevance.  “I’m not dying,” Tim pointed out with what felt like great restraint.</p><p> </p><p>“He was worried, baby bird.”  Dick’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.  “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think he was planning on falling asleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“That does not, in fact, make me feel better.”</p><p> </p><p>“I took pictures.  Lots and lots of pictures.”</p><p> </p><p>“That makes me feel a little better.”</p><p> </p><p>Dick grinned.  Tim felt his lips twitch reluctantly in a smile.  “What are you doing here, then?” he asked quietly.</p><p> </p><p>Something flitted across Dick’s face too fast for Tim to see.  “All my brothers in one place, and you expect me to stay away?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m honestly surprised you haven’t climbed up here too.”</p><p> </p><p>“He tried,” a deep voice said, amused, from the doorway, “It was vetoed.”  Tim shifted to see Bruce leaning against the door frame, giving him a warm smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I still maintain that the bed can hold my added weight,” Dick narrowed his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“And I told you that if I ever wanted to test the structural integrity of anything in the Cave, <em>I would</em> <em>let you know</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“But—”</p><p> </p><p>“You get on this bed and I will shoot you, Dickface,” Jason grumbled into Tim’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>Dick subsided back into his chair, sulking, “Nobody likes me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shh,” Jason mumbled.  He stretched his fingers and then curled them back around Tim’s, shifting to tug Tim against his chest and settling around him with a drowsy hum.  “Sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“You have your own bed,” Dick growled.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, did you want me to leave?” Jason asked, his voice muffled by Tim’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>There was a pronounced, pointed silence.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what I thought,” Jason said, satisfied.</p><p> </p><p>“Boys,” Bruce sighed in his exasperated <em>I’ve-brought-this-upon-myself</em> tone and Tim couldn’t help his smile.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce rounded the bed, smoothing Damian’s hair, patting Jason’s shoulder—accompanied by a halfhearted grumble—and ruffling a pouting Dick’s hair before he bent over Tim and brushed the hair out of his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Rest,” Bruce said, and Tim felt the soft kiss on his forehead.  He closed his eyes, the warmth cocooning him, and slipped back to darkness.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Damian starts his campaign ‘Get Drake to Admit I Am the Best Robin’ by bringing him meals in bed.  Tim, extremely suspicious, lets a smug Jason taste-test every item.  Dick is choking on laughter in the background.</p><p>Translated into Chinese by yanyi <a href="https://yanyi631.lofter.com/post/1f720b76_1cb48ff21">here</a>!</p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30470034">of robins and ice cream</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrambledhearts/pseuds/scrambledhearts">scrambledhearts</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
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